American River Review 2022 - copy - Flipbook - Page 21
Sunrise, Sunset
By Patti Santucci
Let’s say there’s a path
And you’re running.
There’s a fella running behind you.
He set foot on the path
The same moment you did
But he’s so far behind
You don’t even know he exists.
You’re pumping your arms
Splashing through puddles
Lollygagging and laughing
In the morning sun.
Frogs are lily-hopping
Trout are flip-flopping
And he’s still running
But his footsteps
Are too far away
For you to hear.
Others join you.
They slow you down
But you don’t mind.
Together you stop and
Breathe in the mountain air
Swim in a lake that’s so clear
It fills your heart with purpose.
You collect memories like leaves
And stop to build a tree
Which takes longer than
You thought it would.
It’s such a comfortable tree
You want to stay, relax
Stretch the days out
And nuzzle in the
Necks of the new branches.
But there comes a day
When the wind changes
And you understand
He is gaining ground
Close enough to cast a shadow
You want to pick up your pace
But you’re slower now.
You’re forced to stop
And absorb the sunset
Trying to convince yourself
The footsteps you hear
Are menat for someone else.
But you can feel his breath
On the back of your neck
And it leaves you clammy and hot.
You are determined to move
Each step now a labor.
He’s on you before you know it
Seizing you, fingernails piercing
Your paper-thin skin.
But you wriggle free
Humbled, horrified and spent.
When you awaken
The ground beneath you is
a shallow, dirty depression.
His hands are covered in mud.
You are tired and stiff
And filled with a pain
That limits your movement.
You dream of frogs and trout and
Lily pads under the comfortable
Tree whose branches have
Branches of their own now.
He promises to be gentle this time
As he covers your mouth with his
And exhales you into the wind.
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